An ex is an ex for a reason. Breaking up is the inevitable next step for couples who find the relationship heading towards the wrong path. Breaking up is normal, and after a breakup, there follows independence. Exes will first harbor bitter feelings, sometimes drown their sorrows in hard liquor and loud electric music. Exes are allowed to hate each other. Exes can be friends, too. Exes can be indifferent. Exes can pine from afar. Exes can hate each other’s faces. Exes can burn each other’s things. Exes can sue each other. Exes can be best friends again. If the psychotic movies he sometimes watches with Jeonghan ever matter, exes can even try to murder each other.

All of those but exes do not cuddle at two in the morning two weeks after their break up.

 

A series of ‘What the am I doing?’ and ‘What the actual am I doing?’ runs a marathon in Jisoo’s head. Between the two of them, he’s usually the level-headed, rational one, but that’s debatable now considering his actions and decisions for the past… thirty minutes.

 

That’s right. It has only been thirty minutes and he’s already falling asleep in his ex-boyfriend’s arms as if the man never left him at all.

--

 

 

Eight unanswered calls and thirteen unread text messages, yet Jisoo still has no idea where his boyfriend is. If he didn’t know better he would have thought his boyfriend is cheating, but Seungcheol’s just too righteous for that. He must have a reason. Just a week ago, Seungcheol promised to take him out on a date after six months of not seeing each other. It’s been tough for the younger, spending his days both alone or with his friends away from his love, but he toughened up and endured the loneliness. A good opportunity for Seungcheol’s career has come, and all Jisoo ever wanted is for him to achieve his dreams.

But right now he isn’t feeling that generous. It’s been six months. Six months of no kisses, no hugs, no touches. Six months of just good mornings followed by good nights because when you’re a couple for three years already, you can run out of things to talk about. The stuff that interests each other just fades away. And Jisoo is no saint. Sometimes his boyfriend would talk about what happened in work: Noncore assets, rural sales, information reporting—bureaucratese Jisoo has no idea about—and he’d space out until Seungcheol falls asleep on the other line, his heavy breathing would make the younger sigh in defeat, knowing fully well he overworked himself again. Sometimes the older would forget to ask him about his day, forget to let Jisoo tell him stories. But Jisoo would always say okay. It’s okay. I’ll wait until you get back. It’s okay.

 

He has been patient that way.

 

Finally his phone rings and finally it’s from someone he’d really want to hear from.

He answers his phone, but not before looking at the time. Choi Seungcheol is a dead man.

“Where have you been? I have been waiting for four hours, Choi Seungcheol. The staff either thinks my date stood me up or my parents abandoned me in this fancy restaurant, and we both know I do not look like a lost ten-year-old. Where the hell have you-“

“—I’ll explain when we meet, but I can’t go now. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

And he ended the call.

 

Jisoo’s mouth turns sour. The restaurant staff eyes him with pity, but what is shame when your boyfriend stood you up, offering no apology or excuse.

 

He can handle the sad eyes burning holes on the back of his head if it means he can get out of this place fast enough no one would notice his tears.

 

--

 

 

 

“Thank you,” Seungcheol’s silent voice pierces through the deafening silence. He has his chest pressed on Jisoo’s back with an arm slung over the younger’s waist to keep him close.

 

Jisoo hates it.

 

Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

 

“I let you sleep here because I know you’ll whine until you get what you want, so there’s nothing to be thankful for. I did this for me.” He replies, faking a yawn and adjusting the pillow under his head a little.

 

“Thank you for being there for me even when I wasn’t there for you.”

 

Jisoo stills.

 

“Oh…” He chuckles awkwardly. “Well, am I Hong Jisoo if I’m not the most patient man you know?”

 

“Yeah. That’s why I’m grateful.”

 

“Mhm. As you should be.”

 

--

 

“I can’t love you anymore.”

 

No notice. No warning. Nothing. Just Seungcheol appearing before him to tell him this.

This straightforward break up is what they talked about. They used to talk about what they would do if the relationship didn’t work, if something bad happens to the other, and if the world suddenly ends and they’re separated. That’s their way of communication, making the other feel at ease. Seungcheol asked Jisoo to be gentle if he ever wanted to let go. Jisoo asked him to be frank and honest in exchange. For years, they never had to remember these requests, but now they have to. Jisoo has to. He asked for this.

 

“Why?”

 

A simple question. Why? Surely Seungcheol would have an answer.

 

“I…” The older started. He sounds tired. He sounds like he’s begging the younger. For what exactly, Jisoo doesn’t know.

 

“You what?” The younger may not notice, but the ice in his voice makes Seungcheol want to take back everything he said up until now. The man has to steel himself, or he’d break in front of him.

 

“I’m exhausted. I can’t grow knowing you’re somewhere waiting for me.”

 

Jisoo opens his mouth, but before he could say anything, Seungcheol catches him in a tight, longing embrace. “I’m so tired. I need to be alone.”

 

He pulls away from the warmth. After all, there’s no point basking in something he can’t have anymore.

 

“Is there someone else?” Jisoo asks. He knows there isn’t someone else because he trusts him that much, but he’s seeking for reasons to be absolutely angry. Reasons to validate his messy, drunken state later this evening.

 

“Never. It’s you now, tomorrow and always. It’s just not you and me.”

 

Jisoo gets it. He always does.

 

“You’re a free man, Cheol.” He fakes a smile.

Seungcheol smiles back, pain dancing in his eyes.

Both had something stabbed in their hearts, but neither would address it. The break up doesn’t feel final to him. Jisoo is certain Seungcheol feels that, too.

 

“I still love you, but I can’t.”

 

Jisoo turns his back on him. “I didn’t hear you say that.”

 

He walks away, so he could feel as if he was the one who left and not the other way around.

 

--

 

“Hi.”

 

Jisoo’s groggy being jolts awake and gapes at the man-child before him. Wha-

 

“If you haven’t noticed,” he gestures at the prominent bags under his eyes and his sunken, pale cheeks. “I haven’t been sleeping since I left. So if it’s okay—only if it is okay—can I sleep here?” His voice tinged with need.

 

Usually, when an ex-boyfriend—or literally anyone—comes to him in the middle of the night for reasons like this, he slams the door in their faces with no remorse. Right now, he’s just disappointed in himself for even considering taking him in.

 

“Go home,” Jisoo utters the words hesitantly. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he’s certain his subconscious is taking advantage of his half-asleep state.

 

 Seungcheol pouts, “But I can’t sleep.”

 

“Okay, come in, you big baby.” Mentally, he’s asking himself, ‘What the am I doing?’

 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know,” Seungcheol whispers, looking ashamed. Maybe he didn’t expect Jisoo to yield this easy. Maybe he expected anger and hatred.

 

But there’s no room for those.

 

The younger sighs, eyes drooping drowsily. “It’s too late for that now. I just want to go back to sleep.”

 

If one would ask him now, ‘Why did you let him in?’

Jisoo would say he did it so he can continue his dreamless slumber.

 

In truth, he knew.

 

He knew, one day, they’d pick up right where they left off.